Ewe-doo Economics

If you're too young to get the reference to Voodoo Economics, you'll just have to Google it--the first President Bush (maybe the ONLY President Bush) said it about Ronald Reagan's economic plan. Don't you just hate it when you have to explain a joke?

Oh, well....yesterday I was listening to NPR on the way home, either All Things Considered or Marketplace--I can't remember. I love NPR for the same reasons I love The New Yorker magazine--it always gets me thinking about something I wouldn't have thought about otherwise.

Anyway, yesterday there was a commentary by an economist from The Wharton School of Business or some such place. He sounded Scottish or British so, of course, more learned. What is it about the accent? Have you ever gotten up really early and caught the infomercials for gadgets that will slice and dice everything in your kitchen, including the cat? Almost invariably the "host" hanging out in that fake kitchen has an accent from one of the British colonies--Australia or Scotland or maybe just Soho for all I know. Anyway, for some reason buyers must perk up their ears and take out their checkbooks for that accent or they wouldn't be used so often.

(To diverge completely from the point, this morning I caught two infomercials that deviate from the rule above. First, Ron Popeil is back. Yes, I know--for some of you he never left. For others of us, we hoped he'd disappeared into the ozone of one of his food hydrators. Remember Ron? He brought us the original thingy that chopped and sliced and diced vegetables--was it the Veg-O-Matic? And he was responsible for the Pocket Fisherman as well as that spray-on hair product. Well, as my hair continues to thin with age and menopause, I'm not laughing quite so hard at that hair stuff anymore. But I'm not buying a Pocket Fisherman. He's also the person who first brought us, "But wait! There's more!"

And, by the way, Ron's hair looks very dark and full for an oldish-kind of guy--I'm not sayin' he's spraying it with anything but ....

Anyway, this infomercial is for some kind of knife that will cut anything from a tomato to a Humvee's bumper, and it also stars his two daughters and his cousin. His daughters are limited to saying things like "my dad also wants you to see this!" But the cousin is one of those guys you only see on the boardwalk at Ocean City playing three card monte or selling genuine cubic zirconia rings. It's worth seeing just for the laughs.

Did you forget about the "inside the egg electric egg scrambler"? That was his idea, too. Don't have one? Maybe you can find one on eBay.

And the second surprise of the morning was Vicky Lawrence flogging some type of George Foreman Grill wannabe. First off, she looks old, with a capital OLD. (Well, I do too, but I'm not hanging out on TV begging you to buy a grill from me.) Her hair is bright red, her waist is lumpy under that apron, and she looks like she wishes she'd saved some of those residual checks from the old TV shows instead of gambling them away in Vegas. You can skip this one--she cooks a couple of chicken breasts that emerge looking like something they'd autopsy on CSI, only less moist.)

Back to the point, if there ever was one. This economist was talking about the fact that he's a runner and he's training for a marathon, the Marine Corps Marathon in my old neck of the woods to be exact. And he was talking about one of the principal* laws of economics (you did remember I said he was an economics professor, right?) which is Opportunity Cost.

Now if I remember my economics classes from college, the opportunity cost of something is what you give up to do that thing--the non-monetary value of an activity. In his case, he was talking about running and training for the marathon and what he has to give up to do those things--in his case, time with his family, time for a hobby, time to take on another teaching assignment and make some extra money, etc.

But here's where the Ewe-doo Economics comes in. I related immediately to what he was saying because there I was, driving home in Atlanta's rush-hour traffic, missing the opportunity to do what is really important--KNIT. And I was coming from work, where I'd missed the opportunity to KNIT. And I was going home to have a nice dinner with the semi-spouse where I would have to conversate (to use the current non-word for "talk to someone") and eat dinner--okay, maybe I could squeeze some knitting into that part of the day if I could use a set of DPNs as chopsticks--and then sit down with the bills and, again, NO KNITTING. Then bedtime and--you guessed it--NO KNITTING.

Now do you see why I was watching infomercials at 4 am? It's so I could have a few minutes to myself with my knitting!

*No, it's not spelled wrong. I said "principal" law, not to be confused with a "principle." In this case, remember "the principal is your pal." -- signed, your friend, the knitting grammarian.

Sockin' Along

I think it was Mark Twain who said something like "reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." (Yes, I know I'm paraphrasing.)

If Mark had been a blogger (and if I know anything about him, it's that he would he would have loved blogging!), he would undoubtedly have been reported dead once or twice when he missed a blog entry. Given that even ten years ago, we'd never even heard the word "blog," it's amazing that so many people can get so cranky when you stop blogging.

Actually, I shouldn't be amazed. We've become such a culture of immediacy that we need our news right now--on our phones, on our computers, via Twitter or CNN via Twitter. People think if there's no blog, there must be no life. Soon there will be someone offering a Twitter-After-Death service, sort of a eulogy in 140 characters or less, to let your Followers know they better start following someone else:

"George won’t be Tweeting today. He died early this morning peacefully surrounded by his most valued social networking tools and his IPhone."*

Or, in Haiku, a communication mechanism with its own constraints:

George won't tweet today.

Please post this news on Facebook.

Hush, now, George, for good.

Anyway, I'm not dead. But for me, blogging requires that my head be in the write (he he, that was unintentional, but funny) space.

And space-wise, things haven't been right or write for a few weeks. And, yes, I'm trying to pull myself together to get back into the proper space.

In the meantime, what have I been doing? Well, working as usual. The high point of last week was being challenged by one of the kids I work with, who said, "you're an old lady, aren't you?" Well, yes, actually, I am. Now what are you gonna do about it?

And knitting. Sock knitting, and baby knitting. No, I realize you can't actually knit a baby, and I wouldn't if I could. I'm quite pleased to be out of the baby production phase of my life. If you could just roll up a baby and stick it in your sock drawer with all the other babies you've knit, taking it out on that cold, crisp day that seems to warrant a baby to keep your feet warm, that would be one thing. But instead, you need to actually deal with the baby. So, no babies, thank you.

But it seems all the nieces and cousins ARE doing babies so I'm knitting FOR babies. Not what I do best, but I'm working on it. More later.

And I've been shuttling back and forth between Atlanta and Charlotte. And yes, my daughter's much better now, and thank you very much for asking. One of the side benefits of the shuttle was finding two new yarn shops in Charlotte.

One of them is The Fibre Studio at Yarns to Dye For, downtown. OMG! The owner is actually a dyer and her yarns are actually beautiful if not to die for. I fell in love with one of her colors called Tequila Sunrise and would have bought it in every weight if I could have. Great store! Tiny, mind you, and only a few high-quality brands plus the shop yarn. Not the place to go if you have a specific yarn in mind and won't put up with substitutes, or if you feel like swinging a cat or a pug around wildly, but otherwise, wonderful!

And, closer to DD#1's house, The Yarn Shop by Rainy Day Creations in Pineville. Pineville is a funky little town on the southeast side of Charlotte and The Yarn Shop is almost invisible among the antique shops and railroad depot restaurants, but well worth a visit. Very, very friendly staff and a good selection of yarns and books.

Okay, enough of an update. More news and photos of finished and not-so-finished objects to come.

Stand by. I'm not dead. Or anywhere close. (That I know of.)

*Yes, that's exactly 140 characters, including spaces. And yup, I've heard that Twitter is going to an expanded model with more characters (230? can't remember) but I kinda like the old, compressed, squatty format.

Not in Kansas Anymore

Nope, I'm not in Pugville this week. Everything's a little cattywampus right now and I'm in Charlotte for a few days.

My older daughter was hospitalized this week and has been in ICU most of the week. Yes, I think she'll be okay, thanks. Complications from diabetes and I guess she's been pretty miserable but it sounds as if the doctors are getting things under control as we speak. I certainly hope so. Thanks again for asking.

I spent last weekend in a frenzy of driving, from Atlanta to NoVA for a family wedding. Well worth it (time with family, especially my sisters, is always worth whatever you have to do!), but very tiring. Then back home to Atlanta via Charlotte to celebrate Cooper's 4th birthday. Back on the road that night to drive to Atlanta for work the next morning. Then, back on the road by noon to drive back to Charlotte because of Kelly's hospitalization.

About 1,800 miles so far this week. I could be most of the way to Sedona!

So we're sitting ... waiting ... in Charlotte. I'm not getting much knitting done because I have a four-year-old talking in my ear 24/7 or I'm taking phone calls. If I come home unable to discuss anything of merit except SpongeBob SquarePants, please forgive me. I'm sure at some point my brain will dislodge that song and I'll be semi-intelligent again but I have no idea how long that might take.

But occasionally I can pick up the ever-present sock and knit a stitch or two. Which is what I did this morning ... picked up my sock and discovered that the yarn has been chewed through and is in multiple pieces.

(No pix -- for some reason Kelly's computer cuts out everytime I try to upload a photo. And here I thought that Macs were supposed to be so much better--give me back my own PC and I'll never complain about it again.)

Anyway, when you live with pugs, you don't worry about yarn being eaten--pugs are way too lazy to eat anything that isn't served to them in a cut-glass bowl (or, occasionally, on a fork). But the two house kittens, Snickers and ApuKitty, seem to think that Zauberball has the same texture and taste as Cat Chow, and, for all I know, they might be right. I haven't checked it myself.

So, if you're looking for me, I'm hanging out here with Brandon and Haley and Cooper and that's fine.

(And by the way, to my sisters--I love you both very much and am thinking of you. Knit on, through all crises.)

Pondish Issues

Okay, okay, it's very hard to take a good picture of a moving fish in a pond--even a smallish fish in a very small pond. And I have sort of a crap camera, as those things go. But here's Biggie Smalls (you can tell it's him by the red head on the left side of the picture).

What's he so happy about? (Well, I think he looks happy, and he's my fish and it's my pond and if I say so, he is!)

Wouldn't this lotus make anyone happy? I know it makes me happy, and Biggie Smalls agrees.

Mr. Pug's back yard is fully in bloom--glads and hibiscuses and roses and lilies and such. The butterfly bush is full of butterflies and the bird feeders and bird houses are tweeting and twittering. Even that dumb cactus has a new growth coming in.

The Dish Ran Away With the Spoon?

Missing! One (completed) sock. This is all that's left--a partially complete (this is an old photo) half of a pair.

Now I'm used to Second Sock Syndrome, but usually that's because, once I finish the first sock, I can't stand to knit the second one. Not the case here.

But to lose one completely? Odd. I haven't seen it since Stitches South and I keep tearing apart bags, thinking it will reappear like the Phoenix. (Hi, there, Fawkes!)

Hmmmm ... and now Ellen tells me that her Zauberball sock is gone too. Maybe they ran off together? Eloped to make little socks somewhere?

When Is a Design a NEW Design?

Just askin', you know.

I'm a member of a Ravelry group that will remain nameless because I'm about to ask a rude question about the moderator/owner/designer.

When is a design a Design? That is, when does a modification of a technique become a unique product?

This m/o/d is all upset because she says someone else is claiming she designed the m/o/d's unique design and is teaching it. The m/o/d says it's hers, it was hers first, and the other person is basically a copyright thief. (She actually said that in a very nice, non-confrontational way because she's really a nice person.)

Now the design is very pleasant. It's basically a modular blanket made of leftover sock yarn. Nothing you'd toss off your bed if you found it there. Probably a huge pain to make, what with the 9,000 little ends to weave in, but nothing wrong with it. In fact, kind of cute if you happen to have several thousand yards of leftover sock yarn lying around.

But is it unique? It's a garter-stitch knitted modular square turned on its point and attached to other squares with an applied I-cord binding around the edge. Chris Bylsma teaches a pattern called Crayon Box Jacket that is basically the blanket with sleeves (but the squares not turned on their points--knitted together side to side). Ginger Luter takes that same technique and makes any number of garments--capes and little tops and all manner of whatnots--point-to-point or side-to-side--doesn't much seem to matter.

Jane Slicer-Smith teaches the technique and her kits sell for hundreds of dollars (can't wait for her book to come out--more in my budget!). There's a sock called Diamond Patch that's the same concept knit in the round. Last year I made a baby blanket for the beautemous Ruby that's the identical concept without the applied I-cord and made out of one variegated yarn, not bits and pieces of sock yarn. I've been knitting for two or three years on a vest from Tess Designs that's the same concept with two armholes and a ribbed top. (And no, it's not the fault of the concept or Tess that I can't seem to finish it! That's a Me problem.)

So, when does a technique become a Design? If I make it from Noro (I know, I'm insane to think about it) and use 6 inch squares instead of 3 inch squares and put a garter stitch border on it, is it my design or is it my view of a technique? Or did I steal it? And if you make the same thing, did you steal it from me? Or did you just have the same idea about the same technique and put your own spin on it?

To take it one step further, when I made Wendy Johnson's sock but then screwed the pattern up, did I make a new design? Well, I put my own heel on it, not hers, and there's a subtle difference (which I prefer to consider a Design Modification rather than a Huge Error) in the lace pattern. But would I have thought of using that particular lace pattern on a sock? Maybe, maybe not. But I'm considering it's Wendy's idea with a little me thrown in.

I think there are a lot of knitters who are creative and innovative and imaginative but there aren't that many true designers among us. But we all want to publish our designs on the web like we're Designers. In my own highly personal and possibly wrong opinion, the true designers are the ones like who come up with their own take on many different techniques and when you see their designs on the street you say, OMG, that's a Jane Slicer-Smith, isn't it? Because she does lots of interesting things--enough to fill a book and to make me slaver over the thought of taking one of her classes. (Stop whining, Woof ... maybe she'll come to Stitches South next year.)

And then there's one of the Noble Knitters, who knits a wide variety of things but never uses a pattern because she comes from a tradition that doesn't use written patterns. I'd call her a designer because she's found her own way to use techniques in a unique way.

By the way, the original m/o/d in the discussion above is no slouch either. She's got everyone and their brother sending her their leftover yarn so she can finish her blanket. Now, there's a unique concept!

Just wanted to bring it up for discussion. Talk amongst yourselves. Now, back to our regularly scheduled program. (And yes, I know the hibiscus at the top doesn't have anything to do with anything. It's out of my back yard and I thought it was pretty. So there!)

He's a Mean Hombre, He Is

Well, really more ombre than hombre, if you want to be absolutely accurate.



This is Zauberball, the real Zauberball made and distributed (I think) by Skacel. It's a perfectly lovely single with no plying whatsoever, as opposed to the also-named Zauberball which I bought a couple of weeks ago from Only Ewe and Cotton Too at the AKG meeting. That Z is two ply--lovely, but not the same.





Anyway, what does this mean to us? Well, it means that Z (color Cranberry if it matters) is supposed to gently morph from dark red to red and back to dark red with almost invisible gradations. And it does ... except when you stop to put a heel into the sock. Then, if you're unlucky, you get a perfectly gradated heel and ... a vivid, abrupt scar of a color change, right in the middle of the front of the foot. No blending, no gradual ombre-ing. Just red one row and dark red the next.


And, yes, you're right. A Purist would have broken the yarn, torn apart the ball to find the exact place where the color changed on the front, spit-spliced it, and bam, bam, shazamm, a graceful gradation on the front as well. But me? Nah, I'm not doing it. I don't have a full ball any more, not since I tore out the first iteration of this sock (see below).

Why I tore it out is another story. All right, all right, I was knitting it on size 0 needles and hating the way it split and one of the Noble Knitters ... Zina, if I remember correctly ... said maybe it was the needle and I pooh-poohed her and then I went home and tore it out and ... yes, it needed to be knit on a 2. And the yarn was so curly and messed up I just threw it away. See? I told you it was a long story ... and don't you just hate it when someone tells you something really obvious and you find out they're right? Yeah, me too.

Anyway, it looks much better now, in Wendy Johnson's Diagonal Lace pattern. Well, except that I didn't read the errata, so it's Wendy's pattern with my error. But we won't hold that against Wendy. And my sock looks fine -- no one but Wendy will ever know and since Wendy and I don't knit on the same subway, she'll never see it.

In other news, the Dumbledore socks are finished. Yes, the cuff is short. And that's because I used another of Wendy's patterns (can't remember the name but it might be Dead Simple because it was) and hated it (sorry, Wendy!) and got bored and cast them off. Since they too were knit and frogged at least two or three times, it's a freaking miracle they're even done, so get over it!